The Prayer

My mountain is a mole hill My throne's a busted chair This crown has turned to rust And it's all tangled in my hair This high horse that I ride on It's gonna buckle at the knee Upon my castle made of sand I cannot be the king of me

There's the man in white His words are painted red There's power in his blood And only truth in what he said There's the main in black With a needle in his vein Lying flat upon his back This is the prayer that he once prayed

He said, my mountain is a mole hill My throne's a busted chair This crown has turned to rust And it's all tangled in my hair This high horse that I ride on It's gonna buckle at the knee On my castle made of sand I cannot be the king of me

And this (?) in my heart Is filled with pot metal and fool's gold Once your statue turns to dirt All that's left in the end is your soul God save your soul

So he said, shout out of control With all your heart and soul Though this cold world may tear you apart Let the whole world know

My mountain is a mole hill My throne's a busted chair This crown has turned to rust And it's all tangled in my hair This high horse that I ride on It's gonna buckle at the knee Upon my castle made of sand I cannot be the king of me [x2]

Lord, I am just a man I cannot be the king of me